


Don't Bite the Hand That Pours You Coffee

by kayliemalinza



Series: Coffee Corpus [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Coffee, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-20
Updated: 2008-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If one controls the <s>spice</s> coffee, one controls the universe. Ianto is not afraid to wield his power. Also, he does not have a rabbit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Bite the Hand That Pours You Coffee

The team had just voted for Tosh to make the coffee—she was the most technologically inclined, the reasoning went, and the coffee maker was rather complicated—when the Hub door rolled aside and Ianto hurried through.

"Sorry," he called out, dashing up to the kitchen area and setting down two pastry bags and a tray of coffees. "My rabbit was sick and kept me up all night. It won't happen again." He studied the arcane symbols he'd scribbled in Sharpie on the coffee lids and selected one, handing it to Gwen.

"You have a rabbit?" she said.

Ianto froze. "Pardon?"

Owen smirked and crossed his arms. "You just said you were late because your rabbit was sick," he said.

Ianto gave him a tight smile. "I must have misspoke," he said. "I do not have a rabbit."

"Why were you late, then?" said Owen. His eyebrows arched all the way up his forehead and made him look insufferably smug.

"Ah... there was traffic," Ianto said. He plucked a cinnamon stick from an airtight container and handed it to Tosh along with her coffee.

"We can check that," said Owen. "Can't we, Tosh?"

Tosh glanced between the two of them. "I've always really liked rabbits," she said.

Gwen grinned as she sipped her coffee. "They're a bit cute, aren't they? I like their whiskers."

"Well, you _would_ like rabbits," said Owen, "since only _women_ have pet rabbits. Isn't that right, Ianto?"

"Would you like your coffee, Owen?" Ianto said brightly, holding it out.

"About time," Owen said, putting out his hand.

Ianto pulled the coffee from his reach. "I was stuck in traffic this morning," he said.

Gwen and Tosh exchanged amused glances.

"Ooo-kay," Gwen said. "Now boys, play nice. Are these cheese danishes?" she asked, reaching for a bag.

Ianto snatched it away from her, Owen's coffee still held primly out of reach. "I do not have a rabbit," he said.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Tosh said.

"See here, we can't catch aliens on an empty stomach," Gwen said indignantly.

"Is your rabbit named 'Mister Bunny-Kins'?" Owen asked.

Ianto dropped the pastry bag into the rubbish bin.

"No!" cried Gwen.

Tosh swiveled and exited the scene, coffee gripped protectively in both hands.

Owen narrowed his eyes. "That's just petty," he said.

Ianto smiled sweetly and popped the lid off Owen's coffee. He held it over the sink.

"You wouldn't," said Owen.

Ianto's mouth curled up at the corner. "Oh," he said. "I would."

Owen glanced at the steam rising from the coffee cup, unfurling its heady scent into the chill Hub air. "You bastard," he hissed.

"Now really," said Gwen. "Is this so important?"

"Those were boysenberry danishes," Ianto said.

Gwen stared at him in horror. "They only have those twice a week," she moaned. "I can't believe you just—binned them! Over an argument about a _rabbit_!"

"I must be cranky from the traffic jam this morning," Ianto said smoothly. He held Owen's coffee out to him and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Owen wavered for a moment, then crumbled. "That must be it," he said without inflection. He stared at the floor in shame. "Traffic was pretty crap." He took the coffee cup and slunk away.

Ianto turned and smiled brightly at Gwen, who was glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

"I really like boysenberry danishes," she said tightly.

Ianto picked up the other pastry bag from the counter. "I believe there is one boysenberry danish at the bottom." He wagged the bag enticingly.

"You don't have a rabbit," Gwen ground out, then grabbed the bag and stomped off. She brushed past Jack, who had emerged from his office.

"Ianto! Glad to see you at last," he said, coming into the kitchen area.

"Terribly sorry," said Ianto. "My rabbit was sick."

"Poor thing," Jack said sympathetically. "Maybe I'll come over tonight and see how she's doing."

"I think she'd like that," said Ianto, and handed Jack his coffee.


End file.
